A Change of Plans
by bono-212
Summary: Post 1x06, but diverging a bit from the main storyline. Red has to deal with the aftermath of Liz's anger towards him. Take care of "The Lizzie Situation" before it can completely take over his ability to run a business. His attempts to do just that, however, are put on hold when an unforeseen wrench is thrown into the works. Now Red and Lizzie have to work together, to survive
1. Don't Get Me Wrong

**A/N - We'll see where this goes. I just wanted to do a little story that had some action going on. Not that I don't like the relationship stories (and not that this won't have some of that), I just wanted to slip away a bit from the canon of the show for a moment. Let me know what you all think.**

"Go to hell." And with that, last, dismissive statement, she turned and was gone. Red held it together as long as he could, waiting until he was sure she wouldn't see, before letting his emotions momentarily get the better of him.

He hadn't expected Gina to take the fall like that. He certainly hadn't expected her to put it all on him. Sure, he'd been _ever_ so slightly responsible, he really had ordered the hit, that was true, but that was all. Gina had brought Tom into this.

Well, it's finished now. With it being down to Tom's word versus Red's, Red had a feeling he knew who Lizzie was going to side with.

He took in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh as he rubbed his forehead with his hand. It was becoming difficult for him to think as straight as he normally would, were it a situation not involving Lizzie. This not being the case, he was hardly surprised as he felt a tear or two forming in his eyes.

This really wouldn't do.

_The Lizzie Factor,_ as his internal monologue had begun referring to it as, was getting a bit out of hand. He had lost her trust, just as he thought he'd completely brought her in and now...now he was alone here, sitting in his chair, admiring the painting that wasn't his and thinking, thinking, thinking of what he had suddenly lost.

No, he couldn't be this emotional. There were only two options. Take care of _The Lizzie Factor_, or...

* * *

Lizzie went home with her husband. Her Tom. She couldn't have been happier in that moment. All of the stresses of the few weeks. The wondering, the doubt, the confusion. It was all beginning to slip away. In its place, something else was nudging its way in. The emotion wasn't something she could place exactly. She'd expected to feel anger, fury at Red for what he'd done. And, oh did she ever, but there was something else. Loss. That was the only word she could think of to describe it. Why should she feel loss? She had her Tom back. No more dealing with the mind games of a criminal. She was done with that. The FBI could fire her, she'd find something else, but she was done being Raymond Reddington's pet.

"You alright?" Tom's voice interrupted her smoldering thoughts and she turned to him, a smile quickly taking over her sullen features.

"Couldn't be better. I'm so glad this is all over." He smiled in return and the two of them slipped away to the bedroom.

...

The men across the street, still watching, couldn't have been more intrigued by their surveillance duties.

* * *

_The best thing now_, Lizzie thought to herself, _is to just take a break and get some normal life stuff taken care of_. Cooper had given her a few days to recuperate and she was determined to spend it doing nothing even remotely like her usual work. _First, coffee, then the bank, bills, groceries, yeah, just a whole day of errands_. She smiled to herself, it would be a nice day out.

As Lizzie walked out of her front door towards her car, mentally prepared for the coffee awaiting her at her favorite place, a car slowly pulled up to the corner near her. In her distracted daze, she didn't even notice the familiar driver, nor question the fact that the car pulled out, following her as she made her way to the drink chain.

Lizzie took her time at breakfast, enjoying a muffin along with her coffee. She had brought along a book and figured now was as good a time as any to just relax into some other story, some other life other than the one that she'd been enduring for what felt like an eternity.

It was three chapters in and two refills later that she began to feel eyes on her. Piercing eyes. Eyes that seemed to follow her everywhere she went these days. Looking through her at all times, suggesting they knew her deepest thoughts, her every emotion. Simply put...Red.

She glanced around, but saw no sign of the man, his guard, or his suits. _You're losing it, Lizzie_, she thought to herself. _You've spent way too much time with that man. It's time to let go_. Yep, that was right. Letting go was exactly what she needed. It was probably time for her to move on with her day, she was beginning to let her thoughts wander too much, and that would invariably lead to the inevitable confrontation she would be having at the Post Office all too soon. She gathered her things and headed for the door.

As she left, Red slipped out from the men's room, watching her climb into her vehicle. That had been entirely too close for what he'd been planning, but he hadn't been able to stop himself from watching her, at least for a little while. Now, time was of the essence, he couldn't lose his prey so quickly. He darted out the door after her, jumping into the vehicle as Dembe pulled into traffic, after the retreating tail lights of Keen's own transport.

Red had seen much and more as he observed her in the coffee shop. Her mind was engulfed in her book, but everything about her body language suggested that she was basically content, an emotion he was unsure he'd ever seen her display. There had been times, in the last few days, with him, that she had displayed something close to that feeling, but never fully, never in the way that she felt now that she believed things were OK with Tom.

And it ate at him. He couldn't believe just how much it ate at him. He rubbed his head again and stared away into the distance. His future. That's what Grey had called her. _The Long Plan_, he, himself, had said.

This really wouldn't do. He had to _take care of it_.

Now.

* * *

Elizabeth Keen walked into the bank, her thoughts drifting, drifting back to the Post Office. Maybe this hadn't been such a great plan after all, spending her whole day on absent-minded errands. While the normalcy was nice, it left so much time to _think_. Thinking was the exact opposite of what she wanted to do right now.

It was as she was filling out her withdrawal slip that a shadow overtook her. The shadow seemed quite familiar and she spun on her heel, unsurprised at the site of Reddington, all too close, leaning over her. "Hello, Lizzie." That same intonation that he always used on her, as if they were old, familiar companions. "I feel as though you and I should chat," he tilted his had to the side, lips pursed, observing her for a reaction, "there are some things we've left, oh..._unresolved_." That thin smirk crept in, never quite reaching a full smile. She'd never seen anyone who could smile and frown all at once, but the dead seriousness of his eyes spoke enough for the facial expression to be rendered moot.

"I don't have anything else to say to you," she tried her best to glare, without feeling like she was being petulant, "I told you once to go to hell, I don't think I need to say it again." He smiled fully now, and one of his wry chuckles escaped. He shook his head towards the ground before regaining eye contact with her. His eyes were right back to penetrating her and she felt a shiver twitch at her spine. There was anger there, as well as the hurt she had seen the night before. She turned back to her banking, trying to ignore his presence.

Without warning, he jerked his hand forward, taking her wrist into his firm grasp. "Lizzie, I'm not going to do this in a public place. Don't make this become a scene. Now, will you come with me? Or do I have to do something, let's say, drastic, that's an exciting word. Makes me feel like a real villain." he was behind her now, with his left hand on her wrist, and his right hand coming forward to remove the pen from the other. He was much, much too close for comfort.

Lizzie gulped in a breath of air before responding, "If you want to make this a scene, you'll have to. I'm not going _anywhere_ with you." She tried to mellow her breathing, something about this situation didn't feel like their familiar interactions and she was beginning to sense a bit of panic creeping in.

He was near her ear now, and his words were chilling, "I _will_ take you out of here, Lizzie, one way or another. You're going to feel a sting on your arm, now, Lizzie. I promise, its effect will not last long, but enough that you'll need me to take you out of here. No other harm will come to you...for now." He took in a deep breath before finishing his threat, "This is fun, I really do miss being the bad guy." He was reaching into his pocket for the small needle he'd placed there for just such an occasion when he noticed something moving out of the corner of his eye.

Lizzie was bracing herself for what was surely about to be the sting of a needle when Red suddenly let go of her. She turned around to see him observing the bank, he spun in a slow circle, taking in everything around him. She was about to make a run for the door, when his attention was back on her. He grabbed her by the elbow saying, "Time to go, Lizzie!" and began leading them towards the door.

Though she had been about to head for the exit herself, she wasn't about to go with him. Not without a fight. She struggled against his grasp, digging her heels into the cheep, thin carpet, hoping for any friction to prevent what was happening.

Red turned to her, stopping in his mad dash for the door momentarily to calmly speak to her, "Lizzie, there are at least three men in here who appear to have less-than-admirable intentions for the denizens of this establishment. I'm trying very hard to get out of here without them noticing, but you're _not_ doing much to help."

That took Liz by surprise, and she did a cursory glance of her own. That was when she, too, spotted the men. One was near the door, hand deep in a trench coat pocket, seemingly waiting for someone, but constantly monitoring his surroundings. The second was waiting in line at one of the tellers and his turn was next. The third had a small duffel bag that he was fishing around in by the offices of the bank, glancing up every few seconds to see that his actions weren't garnering unwanted attention. It was during one of those moments that he made eye contact with Lizzie. She looked away quickly, but the damage had already been done. The Duffel Bag Man waved to the Door Man, and suddenly he had a gun in the air, firing off a shot.

Red began his pursuit of the door with doubled haste, this time with a compliant companion. The Duffel Bag Man quickly ran over to the two of them, his own gun trained on Red's chest. "Jus' hold it right there." Red stared into this man's eyes, thoroughly frustrated by what was happening. This was certainly not part of the plan.

"Sorry, I think you have us mistaken for someone else, we were people leaving the bank, not with money. You want the people still here, with lots of money. We're just going to take up space, eventually you'll have some sort of hostage situation, Lord knows you'll be trading people away for food and who knows what else and frankly, we've really not the time for all the excitement. Dinner plans. So, you'll just, back out-of-the-way and, we'll just go ahead and leave." He smiled at the Duffel Bag Man, while his hand reached into his pocket seeking the needle. This looked like a one-time chance, the other two were busy trying to corral the other bank-goers (it being 10:00 A.M. on a weekday, there weren't many) and the security guard towards one side of the room. If he could just get to the needle he might be able to stop this before it started. At least for Lizzie and himself.

Lizzie saw what he was about to do and weighed their options. At best, the two of them might get away. At worst, the Duffel Bag Man might shoot, possibly hitting Red (she found that she did care to prevent that from happening), herself or, worst of all, an innocent bystander. She just couldn't take the chance. While the duffel bag man began to push his gun against Red's chest, telling him to, "Shut up and get over there." Lizzie fisted her hand and grasped it with the other. She brought them above her head, the gunman suddenly confused by her actions.

Red was beginning to pull the needle out of his pocket, concerned by what had distracted his assailant, but not wanted to miss the opportunity, when suddenly a weight came crashing down on his temple.

He crumbled to the ground, dazed.


	2. Trapped

**A/N: Wow, I didn't expect all of the feedback, thank you very much. Lots of followers as well, this is great. I couldn't help myself, had to try to get another chapter out to you all, at least before next week's episode! **

* * *

Everything that he could see and sense around him felt as though it were a blur. He found this somewhat fascinating, as his mind slugged along with the motion. There was a sense that he was moving, but the only registration of the movement that was triggering in his brain was the simple fact that the scenery around him had changed.

When he had walked into the bank, it had appeared to be a drab little affair, shabby blue carpeting around the entryway, reflective "marble" tiling over the rest of the flooring. There were little islands peppered throughout the lobby where denizens could fill out their paperwork, count their money, mundane activities that Red hadn't participated in for decades.

Now the mundane was floating before him like an ethereal sea of grey, and his brain was taking it all in as though it were the most important thing he'd ever seen.

His journey stopped abruptly as he was shoved against a solid, wooden structure. He was sitting, back leaned against it, trying his damnedest to focus on what was in front of him. At first, he simply saw the retreating form of whoever had dragged him, but soon he saw in its place the concerned eyes of a young woman, crouched down before him, rubbing her hand, ever so gently, against the side of his head. Gentle or not, it hurt enough to make him yelp, just a little. His focus came crashing back in for a moment, and he saw Lizzie, his Lizzie, before him. He attempted to give her one of his more genuine smiles, but the pressure in moving those few muscles was enough to send his head to pounding.

She pulled her arm back, instantly regretting her decision to touch him. Not because she didn't want to offer him even a little bit of comfort, but simply because she realized it was probably not the smartest move. She could already see the bruise forming along the side of his head, his hat long forgotten near the site of his failed escape attempt. Instead, she attempted to speak to him, make him understand why she'd hit him. "Red, I -"

He cut her off with a simple, but sharp, "It's OK." He would have liked to have said more, but he just couldn't quite get his mind to wrap around everything yet. It hadn't been all that hard a blow, but it had been enough to rattle him. Ten, maybe 15 minutes and he'd be fine. The thought troubled him, he knew there was something going on, something that was more important at the moment than his little headache. He rested his head back against the cool wood of the teller window, waiting for his thoughts to catch up to the events surrounding them.

Lizzie took his momentarily relaxed posture as a sign that she could assume such a position herself. She scooted up against the wall beside him. This situation, it wasn't good, that was for sure. But, Lizzie reflected, it would seem as though she'd gone from out of the frying pan and into the fire. Just what had Red been up to, coming here. Following her, clearly. She really _had_ sensed him at the coffee shop and that sent both a sick, scared feeling into her stomach as well as a bit of anger at realizing that she'd been so very unaware of him. His sense of surrounding was obviously stronger than hers, she thought, after all, he'd realized there was something wrong at the bank while she'd been completely oblivious. _To be fair, _her inner voice reasoned with her, _you were kinda being held __in the grasp of a world-renowned criminal. One who, _her mind added, _you just so recently told to 'go to hell'._ Lizzie sucked in a breath at the thought of that. Red was probably more than a little angry with her. She didn't really care, he deserved all the derision she threw at him. She just hadn't anticipated him coming to steal her away, under force, because of it.

Lizzie found herself sighing as she, too, rested her head against the wood. Red had tried to kidnap her. Instead, they were both hostages in an attempted robbery. Fantastic. She looked to see if Red was coming out of his daze. It seemed as though his eyes were focusing again, as he began to survey his surroundings. To his right sat the other six hostages. Two bank tellers, three customers and one security guard. Red figured there must be more in the building somewhere, after all, where were the white collars, to lead the poor sheep in the way to go about their menial tasks? In front of him, Red saw that the man who had waited in line had a hostage all of his own, _ah_, Red thought, _this must be the manager_. The short, chubby man was led, at gunpoint, by the Waiting Man towards a corridor that led behind the teller tables at which point, Red could no longer see them. He sensed, however, that they must have moved along behind them towards the rear of the bank.

The other would-be robbers were standing guard, one pacing along the line of frightened people, the other next to the door. The pacing one was the Door Man that had fired the warning shot that started all of this. The Duffel Bag Man was now guarding the front door and Red saw that he was packing more than just a pistol. _So that's what the bag was for, huh?_ Red's gaze was now trained on the semi-automatic that the man was holding. _That could be a problem_. He chuckled to himself, and became aware of the Pacing Man, now focused on him. Red smiled at him, cordially before saying, "You're a bit of an ugly one, aren't you?" True, though it may have been, Lizzie groaned at hearing the joyful lilt in Red's voice. _Whhyyyy_, she thought, _Why me?_

The Pacing Man, to be fair, was fairly ugly. A scar trailed down the left side of his face, almost accentuating the crooked nose that resided beside it. He had lanky black hair that held the appearance of complete unfamiliarity with shampoo and his baggy coat covered even grubbier clothing. _No, _Lizzie surmised_, he certainly was no looker._

At the sound of her groan, Red became aware of Lizzie there next to him. He turned to her now, the same smile still traced along his features, his eyes practically sparkling with mirth, "Hello, Lizzie. That wasn't very nice of you." It was all he had time to say before the Pacing Man was there, gun in Red's face, raining expletives on him.

"The fuck did you say to me you rich little shit?" A little spittle came out of his mouth on the last word and Red calmly pulled the handkerchief out of his suit coat, wiping his face with it.

"I _said_ -" Red began, but Lizzie stopped him before he could continue.

"He didn't mean anything by it. He's just a little frazzled after I hit him, is all. He's sorry and he'll be quiet now. Right, hon?" Her eyes were practically murdering Red with their piercing and he had half a mind to continue this game. He might very well have, if the Pacing Man hadn't trained the gun on Lizzie instead.

"No one was talkin' to you, just shut yer mouth." Red's arm was out in an instant, pulling the gunman away from Lizzie and back to himself.

"I apologize for being rude, she's right, I'm not feeling myself, please, do go back to that robbing thing you were doing. I'll behave myself, scout's honor." He spoke, raising the three fingers of his right hand to punctuate the sentiment.

Lizzie held her breath, watching the two, both seemingly frozen in the moment, waiting.

Finally, the tension broke and the Pacing Man simply walked away, though he shot Red a warning look of anger before he left.

Her breath came whistling out as she finally felt herself able to let go. She looked to Red, who was staring into the distance, still lost in his own moment, though he had finally lowered his arm. "What do we do, Red?" she whispered to him, hoping to break him out of his reverie.

He finally looked at her, then, and she saw a look in his eyes that she had never seen before. Panic would have been too strong a word, but she did sense a little fear. Mostly, he just seemed lost. "I can't protect you, Lizzie." He finally admitted. "I've always tried to protect you, never put you in a situation that I didn't think I had complete control over, but this," he gestured around the room with his hand, "This, I don't have _any_ control over." He shook his head in a bit of amazement at what had happened. "I've thought to myself, maybe I can buy them off, but I've got nothing here with me, why would they believe me? I considered telling them who I was, but then it occurred to me that if they knew that, they might had me over to the Feds, generally not such a bad thing, but it would completely blow my cover. Good job, by the way, not using my name." He sighed, and leaned his head back again, closing his eyes. "I'll do everything I can. To protect you, Lizzie. I promise."

She looked at him there, confusion pouring over her, "You want to protect me? You were about to kidnap me. Jesus, Red, you were threatening to drug me!" He let out a wry chuckle at that.

"I just needed you to come with me, just for a little while, to talk to you, nothing more." His eyes were on her, serious, like they were when they had last spoken on the park bench. The reminder of that conversation stung Lizzie. He'd betrayed her. Her feelings. Her trust.

"The last time you and I had a serious conversation, you told me I could trust you. Now you've set up my husband, stalked me around town, attempted to _kidnap_ me and you think I'm just going to go on my merry way with you because you've said so?" Her voice was beginning to rise in her frustration and she could sense unwanted attention turning their way. The Pacing Man was on his way back over to them, walking quickly.

"Lizzie, it might be best if you keep your voice down a touch." She had to agree with him on that. They both turned their attention on the man who was now back in front of them.

"Are you two going to be a problem?"

"We'll be church mice," Red countered, hoping the man would simply leave. "Silent as the grave, as the saying goes."

"I'll put you in a grave, smart-ass." The gun was back in Red's face, but he could tell it was simply for show. Humoring him, Red put his hands up in the air, quaking in what he hoped appeared to be fear.

Satisfied, the man left them once more.

"Lizzie, I didn't want to _kidnap_ you," Red jumped back into their conversation, muttering even lower than before. "I need to take care of the problem I have."

"What problem is that?" She had no idea what he might be getting at.

"The problem, Lizzie, is you."

* * *

Dembe heard the gun shot and reacted quickly. Moving the vehicle behind the bank, he pulled out his cellphone. His first call was to Grey.

The second was for Cooper.


	3. I Can See It In Your Eyes

Back at the Post Office, AD Cooper and Agent Ressler were in the midst of what could be considered a bona fide crisis. With Reddington and Agent Keen both in such compromising positions, it opened the entire project up to untold dangers. Not only was there the possibility of Agent Keen coming to harm, which, granted, _was_ a concern, the more alarming factor here was someone recognizing Reddington.

Cooper leaned back in his chair, gently messaging the sides of his head. He could feel a real bastard of a headache coming on. "So, how do we explain FBI spiriting away two of the hostages from this situation?"

"We could simply go in with S.W.A.T., no one should find a problem with that," the confident younger agent responded. "At least then we can have a presence there to hopefully get Agent Keen and Reddington out before anyone happens to recognize either of them." Much to Ressler's chagrin, Keen's picture had been in the paper more than a few times lately, it was entirely possible that _someone_ out there might recognize her as an FBI agent. Reddington, on the other hand, well, if _anyone_ saw his picture in the press tomorrow, there would _certainly_ be an uproar.

"Sounds like a plan to me, get someone on the phone, let's get this coordinated quickly." He considered for a moment before adding, "And as quietly as possible. Make sure it's clear that any questions are to be directed towards my office, understood?"

"Absolutely, sir. On it now." Ressler spun around and made a hasty retreat.

Cooper dropped his hands from his head and considered his ceiling for a moment. _This is a disaster_. _Well, what did I expect, dealing with Raymond Reddington?_ He sighed deeply before dropping back to the floor. His gaze fell on the telephone on his desk, waiting.

It was only a few minutes more before the ringing of the phone broke the silence in the room and Cooper shot a hand out to answer it after a single ring. "Cooper."

"Anything?"

"We've worked out a plan, when S.W.A.T. arrives, there will be a few of our agents with them, Ressler included."

"Excellent, your assistance is much appreciated, AD Cooper."

"Thank you for the tip-off, Dembe."

"My pleasure."

The connection cut off. Cooper rose out of his chair to go find Ressler and try to get everything moving smoothly.

_As if that could ever happen in a situation like this._

* * *

"The problem is me?" She felt an edge coming into her voice that she couldn't help. _The audacity of the man! _"Are you _kidding _me?"

Red momentarily reflected that, despite how much he enjoyed infuriating people from time to time, situation as it was, perhaps he could have chosen his words a bit better.

"Ever since you've come into my life, it's like you've purposely gone out of your way to destroy it! Is that _why_ you're here? Does my family have some kind of history with you? Is that it? Are you here for revenge?" The sudden stream of thought began to click into place as making a kind of sense to Lizzie and she felt herself growing a bit terrified of those steely eyes staring at her. "Oh my God, that's it, isn't it?"

Red couldn't help himself and one of his trademark laughs escaped him, "Oh, Lizzie, you _are_ something special."

Without warning, Liz found her hand raising from her side, unbidden. Red hadn't even had a moment to register the motion himself, before she had slapped him across the face. Liz brought her hand to her mouth, shocked by what she had done.

"Be _very_ careful, Lizzie. That's twice now you've struck me in the last twenty minutes. Consider the fact that, should we make it out of this situation, you may just be held accountable for your actions." Not a hint of the smile was left anywhere in his visage, especially not in his eyes.

His words sent a streak of fear running through her body, settling in her stomach. "Red, I'm _so_ sorry. I'm just so tired of the games, the hinting, the teasing, the stories about my husband, all of it. I can't _take_ it anymore!"

He softened then, and took her hand into his. The gentle nature that had suddenly come over him confused her and she reflected, not for the first time, about how much his mood could shift at the slightest moment. "That's what I'm trying to tell you, Lizzie. This whole thing has gotten far more out of hand than I had anticipated. It's time to end this." His mouth took on that straight line, of his, that indicated he was being quite serious.

_There he goes, being all vague and creepy again,_ Liz thought, the fear still not quite leaving her.

Neither of them noticed the Pacing Man had returned. Not until he had grabbed Liz by the arm and pulled her to her feet.

Despite himself, Red began to rise to defend her, but the man simply kicked him in the stomach, sending him back to the ground, doubled over. "Now, now, none of that. We're just going to take her for a minute, you can have her back afterwards." The leer that he gave Liz then made the fear that Red had put in her seem like a silly thing. She felt terrified.

The look hadn't escaped Red's notice, either, despite the momentary pain he was experiencing. Pain, he could deal with. Someone hurting Lizzie, though, now that was something else entirely. He began to attempt standing again and again, he was kicked back to the ground.

The man had his gun trained on Lizzie, but his eyes were squarely on Red now, "You try to move, I'll kill her. You make a sound, I'll kill her. You even _look__ at me_ in a way I don't like...I'll kill her." He gave Red a considering look, "Much as you two have spent fighting down here, I'd think you wouldn't mind too much if I took her away." Red responded with a look of intimidation, silently planning on all the ways he was going to take care of this man when everything was all said and done. "See, that's what I'm talking about, that's a real nasty look, right there. You're lucky I don't just pop her off now." With that, he turned and began walking away with Liz.

Red managed to get back into a seated position, as he watched the two retreat. It was just as they were rounding the corner to go behind the counter that the Pacing Man turned back to look at him a last time and said, "You look really familiar, by the way...do I know you?"

There were so many, _many_ responses Red wanted to throw at him, insulting his mother, his family, his dignity, but instead, he looked at Lizzie. Her eyes were wild in fear and he gave her all of his attention and focus. If he could have radiated all of his thoughts into a look, he would have sent her all the words of encouragement he would have liked to have been able to say out loud. _You're safe, I'm still here, I won't let them hurt you. Please, please trust me. _Red wasn't one to normally plead and it's not like she could hear him anyways, but he just, so, _so _badly wanted to see that look off of her face.

Red remained silent, as the threat to act otherwise still loomed large, and the man finally grew bored, walking behind the counter with Lizzie, unable to trace Red's face to the Most Wanted posters that bore it so proudly.

As they moved out of his line of sight, Red let his hands out of the fists he hadn't realized he'd been holding them in and glanced down at the blood trailing from his palms. He wiped it onto his slacks, ignoring the fact that he'd likely ruined them in the process and glanced around to see the other hostages staring at him. He nodded his head at them and smiled before returning his gaze forward, back to the end of the counter, waiting for Lizzie to return.

* * *

Once in the back of the bank, Liz's attacker released his grasp on her. She found herself being pushed into a back room. Her first response was to run as far away from the Pacing Man (who was now in her mind the Leering Man) into the back corner of the room. It wasn't a large space, however, and, after closing the door behind him, he was back within arms reach of her in moments.

With gun in hand, he began appraising her. Liz had wanted to believe that he was taking her for some other reason, but the look made it all too obvious what his intentions were. She silently prayed to herself for something, _anything_ to save her.

**A/N - Sorry for the delay and also how short this chapter is. That had been unintentional, but I really like ending on a cliff-hanger and this just seemed like the right spot to end. I'll get another chapter up this week to make up for it.**


	4. Changes

The panic button had alerted the local police to the bank only a few moments before Dembe had made Cooper and his team aware of the situation. This was a small miracle that the AD couldn't help but silently send up a small prayer of thanks for. If Red's bodyguard (or whatever it was exactly that Dembe did for the man, Cooper wasn't entirely sure there wasn't more to the situation than such a simple explanation could provide) hadn't alerted them to the scene, it might have been over and done with before they even realized they _had_ such a situation in the first place.

As it was, Ressler was having a hell of a time getting any cooperation from the officers on the scene. It wasn't that their cover wasn't working, unfortunately, it was working all-too-well. Apparently there was some sort of small feud going on with the MPDC and S.W.A.T. and the former was all too unwilling to concede ground to the latter. Cooper shook his head in wonder at the incompetence of the situation. Heads would roll once this was all over.

Ressler walked over to the quietly brooding man and filled him in on what little he knew, "There appear to be three men inside with weapons. One of the people in the bank managed to get out before anyone secured the doors." He ran a hand through his carefully groomed hair, actually causing a bit of distress to his usually perfect cut. "Looks like Agent Keen may have been the one to actually set the bank robbers off."

Coopers eyes widened at this, but Ressler held up a hand to prevent an interruption. He continued with his briefing, "The woman who escaped is an elderly lady, name of Susan Graham, she says she was watching Keen specifically because an older man was in there with her. Said the older man was wearing a fedora, which she had found odd. Her words exactly were, 'I hadn't seen a hat like that since I was dating my late husband back in 1952.'" Cooper felt a grin coming to his face unbidden. "Anyways, she said the two were having some sort of exchange and, 'though I'm not one to pry, you see, I just couldn't help but notice them.' In the middle of the exchange, the Fedora-wearing man, who I'm sure we can safely assume was Reddington, became quite agitated and began to try physically removing Agent Keen from the bank. Agent Keen struggled with him, drawing attention from more of the bank-goers, including one of the robbers. Next thing you know, the place is on shut down."

Again, Cooper felt that headache coming on, and with a vengeance. "How many hostages inside?"

"Well, our witness, remember, not one to pry, said she couldn't be sure, but was quite positive that there were at least three bank employees and three other civilians present at the time that she slipped out the door. "

Cooper took in a deep breath, trying to clear his thoughts. He looked around the area, trying to get a grasp on what to do. "Have they made any demands yet?"

"Nothing so far, you want me to head back over and find out more?"

"Yeah, go ahead. Just try to stay out of whatever B.S. those guys have going on over there. The minute we see anyone out of that building, I want you and three of your men on the front lines. You spot Keen or Reddington, get them out." Ressler began to walk back to the group of trucks, vehicles and dozens of officers when Cooper called him back, "And Agent Ressler, don't forget: Keen's not the priority. You get Reddington out of there, and don't you dare let anyone see him."

* * *

Elizabeth found herself still at the end of the gun. The Leering Man had begun to put his hands on her and she felt bile rising in her throat. The scar on his face was even more disfiguring up-close and his breath absolutely reeked of onions. She felt strange, focusing so much on what he must have had for breakfast to cause his breath to smell so badly.

_Get ahold of yourself, Keen,_ she silently admonished, but couldn't seem to help it. That was all her brain wanted to focus on: _It could have been an omelet. _The man's hand moved from her side, to her arms. _No, an omelet wouldn't have an onion smell that strong. Unless of course he'd simply overdone it on the onions?_ She felt his hand slide up her arm and began caressing her neck._ No, cooking them would have gotten a good deal of that smell out. _She felt reality fading away from her as his hand cupped her face._ Maybe he ate an onion raw._

This silent conversation may have gone on longer if the man hadn't begun to move his hand away from her hair, which he been slowly combing his fingers through and closer to the front of her blouse. That was enough to snap Liz out of her shock and she turned her eyes on him, blazing with fear and anger. Without thinking, she ducked her head down and speared her body into the man's chest.

Her seemingly pliant state hadn't prepared him for this possibility and he went to the ground with a loud thud. His head smacked back onto the linoleum with a sickening clack. Liz had just a moment's revulsion at the sound before she realized that the gun had gone clattering out of his hand across the floor. Without giving him a second glance, she dove for it.

Spinning on him, weapon raised, Liz realized that her movements would be necessary: The Pacing Man was out cold.

Liz felt her body begin to convulse as the last few moments caught up with her all in a crash. She held tightly to the gun as she began to rock back and forth, releasing a few shuddering sobs.

* * *

It had been ten minutes now since the man took Lizzie away from him and Red was starting to lose his sense of calm. Without that, he knew, he would be stripped of any sense of right and wrong. These other people meant nothing to him. Lizzie was everything. _His future_. One of the real monsters of the world had her now, and he was sitting here, trying to just take it, because he knew that if he interfered he might put any of the other hostages at risk. He couldn't have cared less, personally, but for some reason, it was in this moment that he feared the retribution that would come his way from Lizzie, should he put them in peril for his own gain.

So, he continued to repeat his silent mantra that had managed to keep his blood lust at bay: _Lizzie is strong. Lizzie's my girl. She'll get out of this. Lizzie can handle herself._ _Lizzie is strong. Lizzie's my girl. She'll get out of his. Lizzie can handle herself._

Something had grabbed the attention of the man with the semi-automatic, and Red's focus shifted to him immediately. He hadn't noticed the walkie-talkie before, but now the man was holding it to his face, speaking through it. In almost no time, he was heading away behind the counter as well.

Red couldn't help but let out a condescending laugh. Were they being held by the world's dumbest criminals? He turned to look at his companions and held a finger to his lips. Reaching a hand into his pocket, he slid out his cellphone, punching in Dembe's number. His eyes remained on the entrance to the counter as he raised the phone to his head. The other hostages simply gawked at him, terrified that his actions were going to get them killed. The woman beside him almost fainted when he actually laughed into the phone. "Dembe, slow down man. You would think I was being held hostage or something." Red took a considered pause as the other man rattled off a quick update on the situation outside the bank. "Well isn't that just peachy of them. I need your help, friend. It would seem that one of our assailants has absconded with dear Agent Keen. Do you think you could get in here?"

Only the woman beside him could hear the details of Red's muttered conversation, and she shot him a piercing glare when he apparently invited a friend _into the bank_! She shook her head at him, disgusted at the thought that he could be putting them all in harm's way like this.

"Just a moment, Dembe." Red placed the phone to his chest, as he gave the woman staring at him his full attention. "You keep _scowling_ at me," he gave his head a little flick to the side, "you're going to give me a complex." She quickly looked forward again, embarrassed. "That's better." He placed the phone back beside his head, but just as he was about to continue his conversation with Dembe, he saw legs moving from behind the counter.

Quickly he slid the phone back into his pocket, but left the conversation active. _Sorry, Dembe_. He looked back up just in time to see the Machine Gun Man and the Bank Manager rounding the corner. The bank manager was looking decidedly unwell, Red noted, and clearly the chubby man was wearing a toupee. It was still on his head, but it had begun to take on a "Donald-Trump-in-the-Wind" quality, forcing another wry laugh from Red.

The laugh cut short, however, as his breath caught in his throat. Following the two around the corner was Lizzie. His Lizzie. Her eyes might be red and puffy, and her hair was in chaos, but generally she appeared no worse for wear and he felt himself slowly letting the breath escape from within. Her eyes focused intensely on him and it was everything he could do not to run and grab her away from the people who had sought to harm her.

Liz made her way over to him quickly, while the Waiting Man followed her. Behind him, he was dragging the still form of the Pacing Man and Red felt his heart filling with something akin to pride.

Liz took a seat next to him and he whispered to her, "That's my girl."

She looked at him there, smiling, eyes looking just a little wetter than normal, focused so singularly on her and she felt warmth begin coming back into her. She finally had a moment to digest the events of the last ten minutes.

Back in the room, after she had managed to regain her composure, she made her way out to the hallway. She was no field agent, as Ressler was only too fond of reminding her, but she did have a sense of duty at the very least. There were people in the front of the bank who were in danger. She now had a gun and a disarmed assailant behind her. There were several options before her: 1) Head back to the front of the bank, attempt to take out the man with the semi-automatic. 2) Try to find the Waiting Man and the Bank Manager and neutralize that situation or 3) surrender her weapon to prevent anyone from coming to harm.

In the end, she never really made a decision. While her gut told her to return to the front of the bank, she moved to the back, instead., deciding that the Waiting Man was her prime target. She was unfamiliar with the bank's many hallways, however and found herself unable to find the two men, immediately.

It was they who found her. Liz Literally walked right into the Waiting Man as she turned a blind corner. The shock of finding anyone else back here sent her and the gun clattering to the ground, and it soon found itself in the possession of a third owner.

As soon as the Waiting Man had scooped up the gun he focused on Lizzie, clearly confused, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"One of your men, the one with the scar, he, he took me back to one of the rooms, he-he," _keep it up, Liz, let him buy the Damsel-in-Distress bit._ _Let them underestimate her_. "He was _touching me!_" She let out in a loud wail, giving herself a mental pat on the back at the theatrics.

They had the desired result, too, the Waiting Man simply stood there, gaping at her, clearly unsure of what to do in the presence of this sobbing woman. "Alright now, alright, just cut that out. Where is he?'

Liz led them back the way she'd come, and the Waiting Man let out an admiring whistle as he saw his fallen companion. "You do this to him?" He asked, turning back around to her.

She gave him a small, timid shake of the head and he shook his head, laughing. At that moment, he pulled out his walkie talkie and called for help.

Now she was back here, with Red, who had taken her hand into his and was squeezing hard enough to cause her a little pain.

His attention was finally pulled away from Lizzie as the Waiting Man addressed the group of them. "It would seem that we've had a little bit of an accident in the back. Gonna cause a slight change in plans, I'm afraid." He glanced over to the man with the semi-automatic, making sure that he had the group of them in his sights. Liz noticed, for the first time, the slight twang in his voice, "I'll have to kindly ask you all to stand up and form a line." He waited as the group stood up, single file, Red only letting go of Lizzie's hand to switch his grip to her left. "Alright now, please, reach into your pockets and let's get those cell phones out.

_Well_ that's_ not what I wanted to hear_.

* * *

**A/N: I can't tell you all what your reviews, favorites and followings has meant to me. I'm participating in NaNoWriMo, for the first time this year (or at least for the first time where it appears I will be successful). I didn't realize it was that time of year when I started this story, and initially, I figured I'd just put it on the back-burner until November was over. Your kind words, however, were too much to ignore, so, for fear of letting anyone down, I'm attempting to push through both this story and my original fiction. That might mean you only get one update from me a week. I'll try and do two, like this time, but I'm not making any promises. Just know that your words have done more to inspire my own writing than anything else ever has. I can't say thank you enough. **

**Please continue to enjoy and I will continue to update :)**


	5. Don't Speak

Dembe pressed the phone to his ear, trying to take in any of the sounds he could. The shuffling of the speaker against the cloth of Red's pants wasn't helping much, but he was still able to determine that Reddington had been reunited with Agent Keen.

At that, at least, he smiled.

But then there had been the request for the phones and his connection with what was going on inside was quickly cut. Not before Dembe had heard one of the men say something about 'Changing plans'.

The bodyguard considered his options carefully. There was new risk now, where there had already been confusion. It was his job to follow Red's orders, and the man _had_ asked him to try to get inside the building. Now, obviously, that had been under the pretense of saving Agent Keen, who clearly no longer needed saving.

On the other hand, he _was _a bodyguard. If Red was in danger, it was Dembe's prerogative to go save him. Not to mention the fact that Elizabeth wasn't exactly out of harm's way, just because she was back with Red. The man smiled to himself, thinking, _honestly, that might be even worse for her._

For some reason, it was this thought which decided things for him. He couldn't risk leaving those two alone for long. Their captors would be thanking him for the interruption soon enough. If Keen and Reddington weren't _already_ at each other's throats, that was.

* * *

"Now, thank y'all for your cooperation. You can have your phones back when we're through here, which, I assure you," the Waiting Man said, a smile playing on his handsome features, "will not be much longer."

_Sure_, Red thought to himself, t_he three of you will just go waltzing out of here, geniuses of crime that you are_. He gave the unconscious member of their trio a considering glance and amended his thoughts, o_r at least two of you will_.

With only one man to watch the group of them, now, it had seemed more prudent to the would-be bandits to lead them into the back of the building, where they could be more closely monitored. This pleased Red. Putting them in _smaller_ quarters actually provided him with more opportunity to plan some sort of coup.

As they were led back the way Liz had just come from, she had a moment to survey her surroundings more thoroughly. The back of the bank had a few office cubicles, creating the maze of corridors that had tripped her up earlier. She noticed several doorways with little green signs above them, announcing the way to freedom and she marked their locations, mentally, hoping the knowledge would come to good use soon enough.

_But not without the others_, she thought. Liz suspected that Red was planning on spiriting the two of them away, but she had no intention of going without a fight. There were other people here that Liz couldn't just abandon. She had a job to do, even if she wasn't in the best place to do it at the moment.

They arrived at the back of the bank, where they found themselves behind a gated entry. To the left was an empty office. The captives, minus the Bank Manager, were quickly hustled inside. Liz hadn't had much time to really look at her fellow hostages, but now that they were all seated around a conference table, she took a moment to take stock.

There was the old woman who had sat beside Red. Liz noticed that she seemed to purposefully avoid looking in their direction, and something told her that Red was behind that particular aversion. There were also two bank tellers, both young college-age women. One was a curly-haired blonde, the other had short, cropped brown hair. The security guard reminded Liz a bit of John Candy, from _National Lampoon's Vacation_. The thought brought a small smile to her, but having been stripped of his weapons, she wasn't sure how useful he could be to her. Then there were the two other patrons of the bank. A young man, who appeared to be in his late 20s, lanky and looking altogether exhausted. Seated beside him was another man, this one in his 40s, and seeming to be your typical "business" type.

Liz was trying to decide which of them might be most useful in attempting an escape. They were lucky that there was really only one older person with them, but the problem of the bank manager remained: He was still with the Waiting Man and if they all took off, he'd likely be killed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a slight brush of air against her ear. Red was alarmingly close, and she hadn't seen him moving towards her from his seat beside her. _"_What are you thinking, Agent Keen?"

He called her that, sometimes, when she was in FBI mode. He could see the calculations passing through her eyes and feared that she might be contemplating something heroic. _What fun, _Red smiled at the thought and at the jump he had caused Liz with his whispering.

"I'm just trying to assess the situation, figure out what's our best option." The conversation was still a muttered one, but now being so close to the other hostages, they were easily overheard.

The older man was sitting to Liz's left and he gave her an appraising look, "And who do you think you are, Wonder Woman?"

"Precisely," Red responded bluntly, before Liz had a chance, "Now do you mind, the grown-ups are trying to talk."

The man blustered at Red's response and turned back from them. _Well, that's two people he's scared off_, Liz thought. _It's going to be difficult to get anyone to work with us if they're all too busy hating Red._

In the hallway, the two captors had been discussing something furiously, but now they had apparently reached a consensus, because the man with the semi-automatic was back in the room. _Now that_, Liz thought, _is a huge problem_. With that kind of firepower, the lot of them could be mowed down in an instant. They really had no option to move unless they were absolutely certain that he could be compromised.

Following him was the Waiting Man, who was holding the Bank Manager with an arm around the shoulder, as though the two of them were the best of friends. "Now then, me and Phillie here are gonna go back and get the safe open. He was hesitant to help me, at first, but I think I've finally been able to convince him of how much his services would benefit the rest of you."

"And how's that?" Red replied, the cynical smirk back on his face. Everyone at the table, Liz included, was glaring daggers at him.

The Waiting Man looked to Red and laughed, "Well, aren't you a fun one? Well, I'll tell ya. I finally lost my patience with our friend Phil here and told him that if he didn't open the safe in the next minute, I'd just kill one of you all." He paused, then, the light tone suddenly gone from his voice, "You seem like a pretty good candidate for _that_ position."

"Well, I thank you for your consideration. You'll find that I'm a decent candidate for _many_ tasks. In fact, I was just considering to myself exactly how the two of you plan on getting out of this little pickle you've got yourself in now." Red tilted his head to the side, expectantly.

"Oh, and what pickle is that?"

"I'm referring, of course, to your fallen companion." Red motioned towards the body that was lying prone in the corner of the room. "Clearly your intentions are to bring him with you, right? I mean, you wouldn't leave a friend behind?"

The Waiting Man smiled, but said nothing.

"But, of course, I also assume that your escape plans included much haste and…" he lapsed into one of his theatrical pauses before finishing with a flourish of his hand, "clearly he's in _no_ position to make such a spirited journey."

"Well, maybe you're right. Maybe we might just have to leave our pal behind."

"Ah, see, I thought you might say that, which leads to another problem." Red nodded towards his captive audience, "the minute you leave him behind is the minute you open yourself to all _manner_ of unpleasantness. You _know_ he's going to tell the police _everything_ the moment he regains consciousness in custody and realizes that you both made off with his fair share."

The smile was gone from the Waiting Man's face and Liz felt a chill run through her at the anger that had replaced it.

"You're a smart guy, aren't you? Think you know it all."

"Not think."

"Shut up." He walked closer towards them, pushing the bank manager away from him, towards the Machine Gun Man. As he approached Red, he couldn't help but notice the protective hand that suddenly reached out to grab Liz's arm. "Looks like you've got your own little bit of baggage there, don't ya? This your daughter? Or you like 'em young? "

Liz looked to Red, trying not to bring attention as she gave a brief negative shake of her head. "She's my daughter," he responded without a moment's hesitation.

"You look _awful_ familiar. We run in a similar circle, don't we?"

"I think not."

Liz groaned, Red's inability to avoid confrontation sending her to her mental limits.

"You watch your tone, Mister. You've already played your hand; you want me to take this lovely lady from you again?"

A response was just eating away at Red's insides, trying to worm its way out of his throat. He looked at Liz, her eyes absolutely fixed on his own, pleading for him to stop. Red's mouth twitched from side to side, but he remained silent.

"Alright then, I don't want to hear any more from you. We'll take care of our own problems, thank you very much." He walked back to the room's entrance, grabbing the Bank Manager by the arm as he swept past, and they were once again out of sight.

In all this time, the man with the semi-automatic had never said a word. But he was watching, always watching. Now his gaze was set squarely on Raymond Reddington, 'Concierge of Crime'. Red could feel the eyes on him and he looked up to greet them. A look of recognition entered the long-haired blonde man's face and Red felt something inside of him drop. _Well, really, it was only a matter of time_. He smiled at the Fabio wannabe and the man smiled back. _Yep, this should be fun_.

Liz felt the grip of Red's hand on her arm tighten and she glanced back up at him to see what was the matter. That was when she saw him, locked in some sort of staring match with the _Die Hard_ cast reject. She felt a sick feeling pass over her as she whispered to Red, "What's going on?"

"I've been discovered, Lizzie."

* * *

The hostage negotiator was stationed outside the bank, the S.W.A.T. team was in place, everyone was ready to jump on the megaphone and begin opening up a dialogue with whoever was inside of the building. Agent Ressler was on the front lines awaiting any action.

As the negotiator brought the megaphone to his mouth to address the building, the eerie silence of the crowd was suddenly interrupted by the rapid fire of a machine gun.

* * *

**A/N: Well this is fun! I'm sorry if this felt like a go nowhere chapter, but it's the calm before the storm. I suspect there's about two more chapters and an epilogue left in this little number.**

**I'm enjoying the complete anarchy the fan-base is in after last night's episode, btw. Hope you enjoyed my small joke about it in this chapter.**


	6. Silver Trembling Hands

**A/N Added 10:43 PM (CST) 12/7/2013 - It came to my attention this morning that somewhere between chapter 4 and 5, I forgot all about the poor security guard character I had in the story. Not that he plays a significant part, but I went ahead and fixed that continuity error, so if you've already read this chapter, there's a slight, small change to it now. Carry on! **

There was only a brief moment with which Liz could really stop and think about the situation. Blondie was already moving towards them and Red's protective grasp had left her arm. She knew it was just a matter of time before all hell broke loose in the small room. Liz took a quick look around, hoping for anything that could prove to be of some aid. It was hopeless. All she had around her was a group of people who refused to make eye contact with the "daughter" of the man who seemed to only bring trouble to the band of prisoners.

Red, meanwhile, was actually beginning to rise from his seat. Liz could hardly believe it, causing her reaction time to be slowed. As the muscles in her arms were finally able to catch up to the events her eyes were seeing, she reached out for Red's jacket, but it was too late. The navy fabric slipped out of her hand as he slipped away from her towards what could only be complete disaster.

But Liz had forgotten about one thing.

Red had not. It was always going to come to this, the question was whether or not he could pull off what was required in the limited amount of time he had.

For the third time that day, Red's hand reached into his pocket, gripping the syringe waiting there.

The Blonde Man didn't let the movement of Red's hand go unnoticed. In the small room, the two were on each other in a mere matter of steps. Liz found a strong desire to cover her face with her hands, in that moment. Machine Gun Man was beginning to raise his weapon. The other hostages immediately jumped below the table, hoping the solid surface could somehow protect them from the chaos that was sure to ensue.

But not Liz. No, she sat there, frozen, her brain speeding to catch up with what was happening. Each moment since Red had shown up at the bank had led from one small patch of insanity to another, finally reaching a critical mass here and now. Was he really walking up to a man with a machine gun unarmed? To what end? To protect her? The only danger here was to him. To him...to The Blacklist, the Post Office, whatever Red's master plan was. Actually, upon further reflection, Liz began to see where he was going with this. For him to be ousted by this man would destroy everything. Not one person who left this room today would keep that little bit of information to themselves. _"Oh what did you do today? Ah, just kept hostage by some bank robbers and wouldn't you know it, but #4 on the FBI's Most Wanted happened to be there!"_ He wasn't a household name, but Liz thought there was little chance that _someone_ in the room here wouldn't know who he was, or, more importantly, what he was worth.

The value of Raymond Reddington hadn't escaped the Blonde Man's thoughts, either. It was likely the only thing that had saved Red's life. A factor that Red had gambled on, and won. All the Blonde Man wanted at this exact moment was to incapacitate Red as quickly as possible. What actions should follow that, he planned to leave up to Leon, his southern friend and the real brains behind this little operation. Once Leon returned from the vault, they would have more than one prize to take away from the day.

Each person sat in this room, most cowered in fear, one frozen in shock and two facing off against each other, preparing for some sort of Western shootout. Each person with their own thoughts as to what would happen next. The Security Guard reflected on his poor, dumb luck...he didn't even work here. He had been called in to work at the last minute, after a fellow employee went home for the day sick. This quick stop-off at the bank had been a small distraction on his way to picking up an extra shift. The 20-something young man wishing that he had just passed on the overnight shift one time, he would never have been here if he worked normal hours. The older woman reflecting on her long-dead husband, picturing him here now to hold her hand the way he had in their younger days when she had been under duress in their halcyon years.

In most times of danger, Liz had found her thoughts going to her husband. Her Tom. Her rock. But Tom had been pushed from her thoughts for the time being. Just two hours ago, Liz had hated Raymond Reddington with every fiber of her being, but if the movies have taught us anything, it's that situations like these could make the strangest of bedfellows. Liz found her heart pounding in her chest, threatening to explode from within, _Alien_-style.

And Red? His mind was abuzz with potentials layered upon potentials. Ways this situation could play itself out. Calculating, risking. Trying to ignore the voice in his head screaming louder and louder with every passing second how stupid this was. Not for himself, but for Liz. She couldn't die here today, and most certainly not as a result of an action he put into motion.

A room full of people, thoughts moving in and out, all in a matter of seconds. Moments that piled upon each other feeling as though eons had passed in that half-minute.

How ironic, that none of it ended up mattering one single iota.

No one person in that room factored into anything,in the end, except maybe for a passing distraction caused by Red's untimely recognition.

The Blonde Man was pulling the gun back to whip Red across the face with it, while Red was pulling his hand out of his pocket, syringe at the ready, ready to jab it into the man's neck and battle for the weapon. At that moment, Dembe speared into his back, knocking the Machine Gun Man to the floor. A spattering of gunfire exploded in the small room, but for all intents and purposes, the bad guys now numbered but one.

Dembe did something to the man's head, leaving him sprawled on the floor, unmoving. Liz just prayed it wasn't a permanent state. "Bad guy" or not, she really hated the thought of anyone dying here today.

She glanced towards Red to judge his reaction to the situation...

...and saw nothing, Red was no longer standing where he had once been.

Instead he was laying on the ground, hand held to his side, a look of shock crossing his face. Liz felt her stomach shrivel in on itself. This was unreal. In a haze of confusion, she pushed herself from the chair and was at Red's side in an instant. Unable to really believe what was right before her eyes, she reached a hand down to touch his own, a splash of liquid heat connecting with her fingers almost immediately. She pulled her hand away, looking at the crimson covering it in disbelief.

This was Raymond Reddington. Nothing was able to touch him. He was an impenetrable force of nature. Surely, surely this was all just a bad dream. Red was her protector, her guardian.

Dembe slid to her side, pushing her gently away so he could see to his employer, his friend. The possibility of Red being hit by a stray bullet had never crossed his mind. He had acted purely on impulse, seeing an immediate threat and hoping to avoid it. This was an unforgivable error and Dembe would never survive it if Red died here today.

Liz stood up and moved out-of-the-way, towards the door, watching the two men huddled together, hugging her stomach, fearing the worst, but hoping for a simple flesh wound.

Red's face was a wall of determination as he lifted his gaze to Liz. His Lizzie. The pain was intense, but his eyes never faltered from her own. Dembe worked steadily to staunch the flow of blood and Red watched Lizzie. The old woman chastised him for his brazenness and Red watched Lizzie. The unmistakable sound of the Calvary coming to the rescue filled the building and Red watched Lizzie. He watched her watching him, completely focused on him, his well-being and he felt peace in his heart.

A peace he was quickly robbed of as Leon grabbed the one person that Red had in this world. He grabbed her around the waist, placed the gun to her head and was gone before Red could even utter a sound.

Dembe felt his blood run cold as his friend cried out in an agony that wasn't consistent with the injury he had received. He turned to the doorway just in time to see Agent Keen disappear from view. He turned back to Raymond. The look in his eyes spoke volumes and Dembe was up and running after them in a moment.

Red collapsed to the floor, staring at the ceiling, unbelieving. He had promised to protect her through anything. Promised that she could trust him and in a single day, he had lost her...twice. In his anger, he pressed down on the rough compress that Dembe had left him, causing himself more pain, but it was only what he felt, in that moment, that he deserved.

* * *

Agent Ressler led the team into the building, silently praying that they weren't too late. The sound of an automatic weapon couldn't possibly lead to a promising situation.

The lobby was empty, but there was a sight on the floor near the door that Ressler couldn't ignore. He leaned down to grab the object, running his fingers along the brim of the dark fabric. Only one person could possibly own a hat like that and be in a place like this.

"Clear" someone called beside him and Ressler signalled the group to the back of the bank. They fanned out, filling each corner of the room, the bulk of the squad heading behind the counter in the direction most likely holding those they hoped to find in one piece.

The maze of cubicles was not something that Ressler was too happy to see as he entered the rear of the building, but the crew made quick work of it, giving the all clear in a matter of moments. Moments that Donald hoped they had to spare.

A flash of motion caught the corner of Ressler's eye and he brought his gun to the ready, following after the motion down a corridor leading further into the building. There he saw light spilling out into the hallway from a room to his left. Unwilling to wait for the team to catch up, Donald burst into the room, gun ready. The site before him left him completely baffled.

Reddington was laying on the ground, a pool of blood forming below him. Underneath the table, a group of adults cowered in fear, looking more like children hiding from the boogeyman. His presence had sent them back into an uproar of motion, each fighting over the other trying to get further back into the room and away from the newly perceived threat.

They didn't matter to Donald. It was the lack of presence that left him cold. Agent Keen was nowhere to be found. Quickly he made his way to the criminal's side, hoping he wasn't too late.

"Donald, just in time." Red managed to keep that air of sarcasm in his voice, despite how weak he sounded. "Considering you've missed all fun, I can only hope now your presence indicates a desire to remove myself from the premises as quickly as possible." Donald nodded at him in the affirmative, preparing to speak, but Red raised a hand to stop him. "Lizzie...Agent Keen...she's...she's gone."

Ressler didn't think he could feel any worse, but that word gone sent a foreboding unlike any he had ever felt coursing through him. "Gone?"

"There's only one of them left, now, and he took Lizzie. I couldn't protect her." He shook his head back and forth, clearly amazed by what had happened. Donald couldn't believe the admission Red was making. To claim such a weakness. "Dembe went after them, they went to the left, I believe it leads into the safe." His eye locked onto Ressler's a haze beginning to cloud there, "There's no escape for him there, he won't let her leave. You have to save her."

"You know I can't leave you here for SWAT to find."

"Then take me with you."

Ressler was baffled. "You can't go anywhere right now. Not without a stretcher."

Red's face grew hard, his focus no longer on Ressler. With the slowest of motions, he began to push himself into a sitting position. Sweat was beading along his forehead from the smallest of movements and he could feel tears forming in his eyes, but he could do nothing less. Donald had to take him seriously, this was his only option.

If it weren't for the sound of the rescue team approaching, Ressler might have forced Red to quit this game, but in that split second, the decision was made for him. He grabbed Reddington under the arms and lifted him quickly from the ground. Draping Red's right arm around his neck, the two shuffled from the room.

The first of the team met the strange scene with a confused look, questions brimming, but Ressler wouldn't let them be asked, "There's five civilians in there, get them out of here." He left without another word, unsure of what else he could say to even offer as an explanation without blowing the whole thing wide open.

"Donald, close the gate behind you," Red practically whispered, as they passed the shiny metal bars that were currently standing wide open. "I don't want anyone leaving this party early."

Ressler caught onto Red's meaning immediately and leaned him against a wall, momentarily, to shut the exit behind them.

There would be no escape.

* * *

**A/N: I really didn't mean to be gone so long! Sorry, but this is my last semester of grad school and it just really caught up with me, I guess. Now it's just a matter of a final chapter and an epilogue. Thank you all for your patience. I don't feel _great_ about this chapter, but I _had_ to write something, or I was never going to pick this back up. **

**Plus, I think we all need something one way or another to carry us over until January, right?**


	7. End of the Line

As Lizzie and Leon made their way down the short hallway to the safe, she had a moment to reflect on how pathetic the day's events had made her feel.

She wanted to be taken seriously as a field agent, and instead, she played the damsel in distress not once, but twice in this single day. It was enough to hurt anyone's ego.

The two quickly reached their destination, where the bank manager lay unconscious beside the open safe. "He'd served his purpose," Leon spoke in way of explanation. Motioning with the gun, he led Lizzie into the safe, closing the door behind them.

"This is your plan? Locking us both in the safe?"

"You have a better idea?"

"Give it up and turn yourself in?" Liz asked, sounding more hopeful than she felt.

"Not likely. Something's up here, but damn if I know exactly what it is. I just get this feeling if I go back out there, I'm not leaving this building alive." He had a crazed look in his eyes, as he held her close to his body. The gun stayed firmly planted to her head, but his head was swiveling in every direction, as though he could magically find an exit in the sealed room.

"Look, I promise you, if you turn yourself in, it's the best option for you. For both of us. Do you really think I want anything bad to happen?

"That's real kind of ya, miss, but I just need a minute to think, to figure this out." It didn't appear to Liz as though Leon was capable of figuring _anything_ out in that moment, nothing about him appeared capable of being rational.

Both of their thoughts were interrupted as the safe door opened in front of them.

"I thought you closed that?"

"Apparently I didn't close it all the way." He pulled her even closer to him, impossible though she thought that would be.

Liz was hardly surprised to see that Dembe was the one behind the door. He entered slowly, his hands held in the air, in a symbol of peace or surrender, she wasn't sure.

"Please don't be alarmed, I'm just here to talk." Dembe weighed the air of the small room and could see immediately the seemingly crazed state of the man holding Agent Keen. This was going to be quite difficult.

"Just hold it right there, now, pal, no one's coming in here, ya understand?" He backed himself into a corner of the safe. Dembe sucked in a breath, knowing how a caged animal can sometimes behave. Being backed into a corner was never a good place to be. Leon removed the gun from Liz's head and pointed it towards the large man before him. "You set that gun down, now, hear me? Set it down or I'll shoot you, then her."

Dembe didn't move.

"Put down the fucking gun!" Leon was shouting now, losing his grip on the situation. Who was this guy? He certainly didn't look like a cop. What the hell was going on? It was all taking its toll on his ability to size up the situation. That was doing nothing to ease the tension that was taking over his mind. How had he ended up in this situation? It was the middle of the afternoon. On a weekday. This was supposed to be a simple job.

Dembe looked Agent Keen in the eye and she returned his gaze, her own hard, trying to appear strong. Dembe smiled back at her gently. The gun was still in his hand.

"What are you smiling about?" Spittle from his shouts landed on Liz's face and she jerked her head in surprise. Leon had the gun back on her in an instant. "You trying to get away from me? Don't you try and get away from me, I'll kill you. You hear me? I'll kill you!" His shouts were growing higher in pitch by the second.

Dembe had the gun down and aimed at Leon in a moment. "I'll ask you to please take the gun away from her now." Leon didn't budge.

"You get your gun on the ground and I'll take the gun away from her." His eyes were locked back with Dembe. "Do it. Now!"

Finally, Dembe began to squat down, never letting his gaze leave the two. He slowly began to lower the weapon to the floor of the room. Before he had a moment to set it all the way down, though, he was struck from behind by the safe door opening even further. Dembe sprawled forward as the gun spilled from his grasp.

Behind him, Ressler and Red entered the room. Ressler had his weapon now pointed on Leon, while Red rested his tired body against the wall of the room.

Red's vision was growing weaker by the moment and he felt so very tired, but seeing Lizzie there before him gave him the relief he needed to go on for a bit longer.

"Agent Ressler, FBI! Lower your weapon."

"Where are all of these people coming from?!" Leon finally screamed aloud. "No, I don't think I'll be putting my weapon down. Now why don't you and your friend just get on out of here?"

"Not without Agent Keen." Ressler responded, voice flat and calm.

"Agent?" Leon looked down at the girl in his arm, confusion spreading across his face.

Red felt his eyes roll up towards the ceiling. _Oh boy, Donald_, he thought to himself. _Well, it hardly matters now I suppose_. He struggled forward to stand straight and tall beside Ressler, trying to appear as intimidating a force as normal.

Liz felt the gun pressing into her head, much further than was comfortable. Leon had eyes only for her, and anger was beginning to replace the confusion and terror that had been present over him the last few minutes. "Agent." It wasn't a question this time. Leon just sounded angry now. "Agent Keen. You've been telling stories, haven't you?"

Liz felt the color rushing to her face, for some reason embarrassed to have been caught in their lie.

"Let me guess," he began, pointing the gun momentarily at Red, "this fella isn't your father, either, is he?"

Ressler found himself glancing at Red, his jaw dropped slightly, completely unsure of what he may have just walked into the middle of.

"No." Red responded for her, his voice deeply serious. "I'm not her father, but if you don't remove that gun immediately, I _will_ make sure that you regret that decision. Immediately."

Leon actually laughed in response to Red's threats. "Oh really? And how are you going to do that?"

In the aftermath, Liz was still unsure of what exactly it was that she saw happen, but there was one thing for certain. One thing that Red did that sent her into a cold sweat. No one else in that room would have responded to the look that came across Red's face in that moment the way Liz did. But, then again, no one in that room, besides Red and herself, had been there with the Stewmaker in his final moments.

Red's eyes were wide, his nose flared. His mouth formed a hard line.

Liz had only seen that look cross his face once. She had hoped never to see it again. For Leon, she began to shake.

It was all over in an instant.

Ressler's eyes had been on Leon and Liz, trying to figure out how to get everyone out of this situation in one piece. He, too, couldn't have said exactly what happened afterwards, because it was all over so quickly.

But for Red, it was all as though it moved in slow motion. His arm shot out to the left, grabbing the gun from Ressler's hand. An expression of shock crossed Leon's face for a brief moment and a momentary thought passed through him to do something. His arm moved from Liz, towards Red, but Red was already pulling the trigger. In an instant, Leon was on the floor, a circular mass discoloring his forehead.

Liz crumbled to the floor beside him, grasping her stomach as the excitement of the last few minutes washed over her.

Red, too, fell to the floor, satisfied, now, that Lizzie was safe.

Dembe went to him, picking Red up with ease. "Shall we leave now, Agent Ressler?"

Donald blinked a few times, still unsure of how this had all gone so awry, so quickly. He struggled to find words, but they wouldn't come. In the end, he simply shook his head in the affirmative, and Dembe exited the room, waiting in the hallway for the FBI agent to lead them out.

Liz found the strength to stand and went to her partner, picking his gun up from the ground, where Red had dropped it. She ran a reassuring hand along Donald's arm and motioned for the two of them to leave. He nodded to her as well, taking his gun as the two walked out.

* * *

Once outside, Cooper had Red placed into a prepared ambulance. A profile had already been prepared for him at the hospital, he just hoped that it would hold up.

The doors were closing on the ambulance door when Liz jumped into the back. The EMT inside was about to kick her out, when she flashed her badge at him, "I'm going with." It wasn't up for debate. Instead of wasting his time, the EMT returned his attention to Red.

Somewhere in the time they had taken to leave the building, Red had lost consciousness. But now his eyes were wide open once more. "Lizzie."

"Shh, Red, I'm right here."

"Lizzie, I have to tell you something." His voice was as weak as ever and she felt fear pooling inside of her. "In case…in case. I have to tell you why…"

She place a finger to his mouth, shaking her head. "No. You said I needed to figure things out for myself. That you could lead me to the answers, right?" A small smile quirked in the corner of his mouth. "Where's the fun if you tell me the answers?"

"I came here today to tell you everything, you know."

"Really? You made it seem, at one point that you were going to kill me."

"I just wanted to shake things up a bit, nothing more." His eyes were fluttering shut once again.

She was ready for him to slip back in to unconsciousness, and she herself was ready to drift away for a bit. Suddenly, he was awake and looking at her once more. "Lizzie, you are strong. Never forget that. Never forget what happened here today. You may hate me, and that's fine, but I'm never going to stop being there for you. I hope you realize we're in this together. At least until I reach the end of the list."

His eyes were closed one more and she was quite certain it was for good this time. Regardless she leaned close beside his ear and whispered, "I don't hate you."

Red smiled.

**A/N: THE END! Aren't you all proud of me? First Fanfic I ever finished. I know I had said I was going to do an epilogue, but I was pretty happy with where this ended, so...**

**Maybe I'll have another idea for this show inside of this story's little universe, but who knows. I'm just proud of myself for finally finishing a story at the moment, I'll take pride in that personal victory. **

**Anyways, hope you all enjoyed! I decided in the end to leave Red's secret vague. I had originally planned on it to be a ship fic, then I stopped shipping Lizzington (well as a romantic ship, anyways). Then I was going to have it be father/daughter, but I'm less sure now that that's the case either (pretty sure there related, but who knows). Figured that a vague ending was stronger. Leaves more to the imagination. Lets you fill in your own blanks! **


End file.
